Tinsel (Lark Cove #4)(84)

Dakota’s heart had been broken by regret. If his mom pushed hard on him to move home, I didn’t know if he had the strength or energy at the moment to resist. He wouldn’t leave things undone with a family member again.

Don’t push him, Lyndie. As I listened to cartoons in one ear and Lyndie’s weeping in the other, I begged for it over and over again.

The future I was beginning to see with Dakota would be erased forever if he came back here. For selfish reasons, I wanted him to stay in Lark Cove until we could figure us out.

For Dakota’s sake, he needed to be free to live his life. To make his own choices. To shine.

That beautiful man had wings. Why couldn’t his family see them?

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said quietly as she wept.

“Are you coming back?”

“No.”

After a few seconds, the sound of dishes being taken out of a cupboard and put on the counter echoed my way.

“I regret not making things right with Dad,” Dakota said. “It’ll haunt me forever. I don’t want that with you.”

“Then come home. Be with your family.”

“I can’t.”

A bowl slammed down. “Why?”

“I love you, Mom. I love Koko and Rozene. I love the kids. But I can’t. I don’t mean this to sound like I’m running your choices down, but I don’t want this life.”

“And Sofia?” Lyndie asked.

“She’s in my heart.”

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

My breath hitched, hope swelling in my chest. And like always, my eyes flooded with tears.

He loved me. He might not have said it. He might not see the details of our future either. But he loved me.

There had to be a future. There had to be a way. We’d touched one another’s lives, leaving permanent marks neither of us would ever erase.

If this didn’t work out, if we couldn’t find a way, I’d never be the same.

Neither would he.

“Dakota.” Lyndie sighed. “Your father’s death, it has crushed us. We all have things we should have said. We have our regrets.”

“Mom—”

“Let me finish.” She cut him off. “I don’t want that. You are my son, and I love you. I don’t understand you. But I love you.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Neither do I,” Dakota admitted. “I’m lost.”

“So am I.” Lyndie’s voice broke and she began to cry again. Her muffled sobs meant she was once again in Dakota’s arms.

I sniffled, swallowing tears of my own. Sometime during the past year, I’d stopped criticizing myself for crying. It was my release, and I wasn’t going to feel ashamed for it. But I’d also learned how to staunch them when I wanted to, not when others did.

They were my tears. I chose when they were needed. For now, they were at bay.

Turning away from the kitchen, I braved the remainder of the hallway to the great room. The wooden floors were slick under my socks so I took it slowly, dreading what was waiting for me.

The front door tempted me momentarily. I gave it a longing glance before stepping off the wooden floor and onto the carpet, crossing into enemy territory.

I entered the great room unnoticed by the kids. They kept playing, only one of them sparing me a glance. Koko was seated in a chair, her baby girl in her arms lazily drinking a bottle. Rozene was on one end of the couch, closest to the kids.

With a coat and diaper bag on the other chair in the room, I had no choice but to take the free end of the couch.

Neither of Dakota’s sisters spoke to me as I settled into the leather. So I watched the cartoons, recognizing the show from when Dakota and I’d gone over to Thea and Logan’s place on Halloween to tag along for trick-or-treating.

“My brother is exploring. It’s in his blood.” Koko spoke over the show. “But eventually, he’ll realize his place is here and come back home to settle down.”

Is that what she’d told Petah for all these years? Is that why she’d never gotten over Dakota?

“I disagree. I think if you asked and listened, he’d disagree as well.”

Rozene huffed. “This is not what Dad would want.”

Meaning me. I was not who her dad would have wanted for Dakota.

“I love him.” My voice was unwavering. “He is the love of my life.”

Rozene and Koko shared a look. Either they didn’t believe me, or they thought it wouldn’t matter. They really believed Dakota would come back.

Like their mother, they didn’t understand him.

How could three siblings raised together be so different? Though, looking at my own relationship with my siblings, maybe it was something that evolved over time.

“Babe.” All of us turned, the kids included, when Dakota entered the room with Lyndie close behind. He jerked his chin to the door. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, already?” I jumped from my seat, joining him by the door.

He pulled on his boots then gave his mom a long hug good-bye before opening the door. No one said good-bye. No one waved from the porch. The moment we stepped outside into the rain, the door closed behind us.

Dakota’s hand found mine as we hurried down the sidewalk to the truck. He opened my door for me to hop inside then jogged around to get in himself to drive us straight out of town.